


Midnight's Kiss

by MaeaStorm



Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: (not really) - Freeform, (supposedly), Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kissing, Krogan is demiromantic, Love Confessions, M/M, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:14:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29722632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaeaStorm/pseuds/MaeaStorm
Summary: After a particularly uneventful (read: unproductive) week of Midnight Sun, Viggo learns some interesting facts about Krogan, when he finds him drunk in his room after what looks like a particularly nasty beating, and talking to him leads to something more vibrant.
Relationships: Viggo Grimborn/Krogan
Kudos: 4





	Midnight's Kiss

Viggo shifted the maps he was holding in the crook of his arm, a frown pulling at his lips. Krogan hadn’t shown up to the strategy meeting today- not that the man really contributed much of anything to any of the conversations; he didn’t talk much, not even when he was asked to contribute to strategies in the planning room. 

But, this was odd. Krogan  _ always  _ showed up. He was never late, either, in fact, he usually was early, coming before even Viggo. 

The man opened the door to his own room, walking in, and glancing around. The room wasn’t as cluttered as it usually was, so there was plenty of room for Viggo to place the rolled-up maps on his desk. He could put them away later. 

Viggo turned around, and then walked out into the hallway. Krogan’s room was opposite to his, because Johann wanted Viggo to “Keep an eye on him.” 

Rolling his eyes, he huffed, moving towards the door. It was silent on the inside, from what he could hear through the wood. Could Krogan be asleep? It was possible, after all the annual midnight sun had just ended. Krogan hadn’t slept the entire time, and the last time Viggo had seen Krogan, he’d looked thoroughly exhausted. 

Viggo knocked gently.

“Hey, uh…” he trailed off. “You weren't at the meeting,” Viggo gently tested the doorknob. It wasn’t locked. Odd. Krogan always locked his door.

There was a soft groan from the other side of the door.

“Go ‘way.” Krogan’s speech was horribly slurred, and the tinge of suspicion began to curl in Viggo’s stomach.

‘ _ Is… is Krogan  _ drunk _? _ ’ Viggo gently pushed the door open, finding Krogan sitting on the floor, his back to him; his  _ bare _ back. Krogan wasn’t wearing anything from the waist down, and it showed off all of the bloody bandages that had haphazardly been wrapped around his abdomen. Most of the blood seemed to be on his back, but, then again, Viggo couldn’t see his front. 

“Krogan?” He called, slowly closing the door behind him. He sniffed, wrinkling his nose at the sharp, clear scent of alcohol that hung in the air. 

Krogan turned his head to look at him with a dour expression on his face. 

“Why weren't yo-”

“Di’ Johanns sen’ youu ta sspyon me?” Krogan slurred, interrupting the other man. His eyes blinked, and Viggo looked slightly shocked. 

“Krogan, are you…“ Viggo trailed off, eyeing the bottle of whiskey that Krogan had grasped in his hand. “Are you  _ drunk? _ ”

Krogan stood up, turning to face him with a scowl on his face. Viggo’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of the bruise swelling over Krogan’s eye. There was more bruises that peppered their way down Krogan’s neck, although Viggo realized that those were probably  _ not _ bruises. 

“Iss noone ‘f yer businesss!” Krogan snapped. “M’ mindinn my ow’ businesss, whyy don’ youu minnd yers?” The other man’s eyebrows turned down, wrinkling his forehead. 

Viggo, however, could see that the man’s eyes were red and puffy. Like he’d been crying. 

Worry clouded in Viggo’s head, simply watching Krogan wobble, as the man stood there, glaring at him with his one remaining eye. 

‘ _ Krogan is an asshole, but, _ ’ Viggo cut his thought up. ‘ _ Why am I feeling sorry for him? He’s so… pompous and brash! He’s an idiot! _ ’ Growling, Viggo put a hand to his forehead, and then he rubbed at his eyes. 

“Krogan, are you…” He swallowed. Even trying to say this was making him nauseous. “Are you okay?” 

Krogan doesn’t respond for a long time, and when Viggo opens his eyes again, Krogan is staring at him, his eyes darting across his face, almost as if it’s a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out. 

That was to be expected, though, with the three completely empty bottles of booze on the floor, and the half-empty one in his hand, Krogan was absolutely wasted at this point. Viggo was half surprised the man wasn’t unconscious. 

“Wha’s youu gettin at?” Krogan finally spoke, drawing Viggo’s attention back to the moment at hand. Krogan’s eyes are narrowed, suspicious; critical. 

No, those words didn’t sound right to Viggo. 

‘ _ Reproachful? _ ’ He thought. ‘ _ No that’s not right either, _ ’ Viggo eyes Krogan a bit more, and then it comes to him.

‘ _ Why are you so hesitant? _ ’ Viggo mused internally 

“What do you mean, Krogan?” Viggo asked. Krogan’s eyes glanced up and down Viggo’s face, as he slowly lifted the bottle of liquor to his lips. Viggo cringed internally, and he stepped forward, knocking the booze from Krogan’s hand.

The other man glared down at him, and Viggo raised his eyebrow.

“No, Krogan. You’re lucky you aren’t unconscious!” Viggo hated how concerned he sounded, and then he was being pushed away from Krogan by a pair of large hands. 

“Whyy do youu care, Viggoo?!” Krogan yelled, his voice cracked, however, and it shook. He was  _ scared _ . “Youu  _ haate  _ mee!”

Viggo cringed at that. It was true, but he never realized that Krogan knew that fact. Viggo simply stared. 

“Krogan,” Viggo started, his eyes widening slightly. “I-”

“Donchu lie! I kno was’ chu thin’ ‘bout me!” Krogan wailed, and there was pain brimming in his voice, boiling and ready to spill over like a pot that had been left over a fire for too long. “Ah hate it! Youus too bussy lusstin after a BOYY whoo don’ wannanythin to do witch ya!” 

Krogan’s chest heaved, a bright, red flush starting to collect over his cheeks and nose. 

Viggo’s eyes widened. A deep, sickening feeling was coiling inside of Viggo, as he already had a feeling what Krogan was getting at.

“Krogan… what are you talking about?” Viggo asked, confused. “You can’t be say-”

“Viggoo ah love youu!” The yell made Viggo pause, and he blinked slowly. “Yer everything’ ahmm not!” 

Viggo stepped closer, and Krogan backed away. 

“Yous handsome, yous got money! Yous can do whatever yous want witout gettin in trouble!” Krogan glanced around nervously with his eyes. They were shimmering with tears. 

“Butchu hate me jus’ like evryone does!” Krogan turned away, and he stumbled over one of the discarded bottles on the floor. 

Viggo’s eyes widened, and he rushed forwards, easing him to the floor. Krogan was shaking heavily, his shoulders were shivering, and Viggo was realizing that he was crying. 

A well of pity dug itself into Viggo’s head, and he gently ran his fingers along the bruise swelling Krogan’s eye shut.

“What happened?” Viggo’s voice was soft, trying to be comforting. “Who hurt you?”

Krogan sniffled, and he tried to yank himself away from Viggo.

“I don’t need yer pity!” Krogan hissed deliriously, but Viggo sighed.

“Krogan, I… I can’t hate you.” Viggo didn’t think he would ever utter those words in his life. “Now, please, just- I want to know who hurt you.” Viggo’s own back stung in sympathy; he knew the feeling of a whip just as well as anyone did. 

“Was it Johann?” Viggo asked softly. “Did Johann do this?” 

Krogan looked at him, lowering his head slightly, as if he were trying to protect his neck. 

“Why?” 

“Imma failure!” Krogan spit out. The disdain that stained Krogan’s tongue made a tingle rush down his spine. “S all my fault when something goes wrong,” Viggo was thankful that Krogan wasn’t slurring his words very much anymore. Now he could understand him better. 

“He whipped you?” Krogan nodded. 

Viggo pulled Krogan into a gentle hug, and he smiled at the stiffening of Krogan’s muscles against him. Against his ear, Viggo felt Krogan’s breath hitch, right before a pair of arms gently snaked around his waist. 

It was barely any pressure from Krogan. Barely any strength to the grip- strength which Viggo knew could crush a human skull in a bare hand; he’d seen it himself.

“I’m not made out of paper, you know,” Viggo urged, glancing up to see Krogan simply staring at him with wide eyes that glittered with a strange mix of love, confusion, and adoration, though Krogan’s shrunken pupils were more than telling of his drunkenness. 

Viggo pulled his arms away from Krogan, and then pulled back, blinking. Krogan stretched his legs out along the floor, and Viggo took the initiative to slip into Krogan’s lap. 

Krogan’s eyes never moved off of him when he moved. They fluttered slightly, flashing gold in the light of the waning sun. 

Viggo placed his hand on Krogan’s chest, his eyes glancing down at the brand that hung above his nipple, which was half torn by a healed-over pink scar that blossomed and twisted elegantly like the branches of a tree. 

“You’ve been struck by lightning before?” Viggo mused, and Krogan nodded slowly, looking away. 

“It nearly killed me.” The slurring was gone now, so Viggo had a feeling that Krogan was starting to have a bit of a clearer head, if only a little bit. 

Viggo glanced at Krogan’s neck, to what were obviously love bites from this close. Something felt off about them though. They shouldn’t have been there, if Krogan had admitted his feelings to Viggo then wouldn’t he have wanted to have him do that instead?

“Krogan, did you want these?” He asked softly, running his fingers across Krogan’s throat. The man stiffened at the touch, and Viggo felt Krogan’s adam’s apple twitch in his throat. 

“No.” It was a single word, but it said more than enough to Viggo with the way it was said, with the deep-seated fear that mingles in the word.

Viggo tilts Krogan’s head towards him, lifting Krogan’s chin so he can look into his eyes. The sun is setting at this point, sending swaths of golden light glittering across Krogan’s bare skin, as well as turning his brown eyes into twin pools of liquid gold. 

Viggo swallowed gently, and his stomach knotted up with nervousness, which he shoved down, and then planted his lips on Krogan’s own. 

Krogan went stiff, as if he were a statue, but the warm feeling of Krogan’s arms snaking up to lay on Viggo’s shoulders was more than worth the initial stiffness. Because at least Krogan was consenting this time. He had the choice to pull away. 

Krogan moaned through the kiss, and the noise sent a tingle rushing down Viggo’s spine- that noise sounded so beautiful coming from Krogan, in that deep, silky, honeyed voice of his. 

Viggo closes his eyes, a smile pulling his lips, as Krogan playfully, albeit shyly bit at his lower lip, before pulling away, and then leaning his forehead into Viggo’s, nuzzling his nose into the other man’s as he did so. 

When Krogan pulled away again, Viggo was more stunned by Krogan’s seemingly ethereal beauty; in the way his soft, full maroon lips were pulled halfway into a smile; the way his olive skin glinted in the light of the setting sun, as if it were made of glistening embers of a shattered topaz. Even with the black eye Krogan had, he was stunning. 

Viggo heaved a deep breath, humming at Krogan. 

Krogan wasn’t handsome, no no, Krogan was stunningly beautiful. 


End file.
